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failed haiku A Journal of English Senryu Volume 2, Issue 20 michael rehling ‘Failed’ Editor www.failedhaiku.com @SenryuJournal on Twitter Facebook Page
Cover Haiga by: Sandi Pray
Cast List In order of appearance
(all work copyrighted by the authors) Gerard Sarnat Sandi Pray Celestine Nudanu Goran Gatalica Lucia Fontana and Patricia Davis C.R. Harper Bernard Gieske Enrique Garrovillo Robert Kingston NANA AMMA ADOMAA ABREFA N. E. Taylor w.r. bongcaron John J. Dunphy Chase Gagnon Ruth Arnison Anita Virgil Marshall Bood Anna Cates Lynn Edge Bryan Rickert Jacob Kobna Ayiah Mensah
Antonio Mangiameli Sonam Chhoki and Sangye Khandu Capotă Daniela Lăcrămioara Tsanka Shiskova edwin lomere Alexis Rotella Eva Limbach Colin W. Campbell Lorin Ford Rachel Sutcliffe Valentina Renaldi-Adams & A. D. Adams Rick Hurst Stephen Amor Maeve O’Sullivan Susan Burch Elmedin Kadric Srinivasa Rao Sambangi Emma Power Pris Campbell Marietta McGregor Oscar Luparia Tatjana Debeljaciu Ian Mullins Chen-ou Liu Dan Smith Lori A Minor
Garry Eaton Christina Martin Sonam Chhoki and Pem C. Gyamtsho Thomas Tilton Natalia Kuznetsova Keith Polette Carol Raisfeld Naomi Madelin Sonom Chhoki and M. Kowalewski Louise Hopewell Bruce Jewett Angela Giordano Francis W. Alexander Angela Terry Dana Grover Vera Constantineau Olivier Schopfer Zoran Doderovic Salil Chaturvedi Stephen Toft Renee Butner Timothy Murphy Tia Haynes David Flynn John Levy Pat Davis
Madhuri Pillai Munia Khan Michael H. Lester Rebecca Cowgill Dave Read Robert Epstein Sonam Chhoki and Mike Montreuil Bee Jay David J Kelly Kala Ramesh William Scott Galasso Adrian Bouter Barbara Tate Cynthia Rowe Martha Magenta Eufemia Griffo S.Radhamani David Oates Marek Kozubek Jack Galmitz Nikolay Grankin Ed Bremson Mark Gilbert Keitha Keye Debbie Strange Susan Beth Furst
Margherita Petriccione Peter A. Wolf Sudebi Singha Diarmuid Fitzgerald Nicholas Klacsanzky Robert Henry Poulin Dan Smith Gordon Ayisi Christa Pandey Mike Gallagher Julie Warther Angela Terry and Julie Warther Peter Jastermsky Lucia Cardillo Terrie Jacks Adjei Agyei-Baah Sondra J. Byrnes Kwaku Feni Adow Paul Beech Mohammad Azim Khan Gabriel Bates Elisa Allo Eric Lohman Anthony Q. Rabang Angiola Inglese Joe Kleponis
Barbara Kaufmann Jill Lange Dottie Piet Nina Kovacic Gergana Yaninska Debbi Antebi Bill Kenney Helga Härle Robert P. Moyer Robyn Brooks John J. Han Kristyn Blessing
like community it’s hard to make a fire with only one log Yosemite -- hike till 8:23 PM – grand summer solstice Gerard Sarnat
midnight i walk my thoughts without a leash rain deficit a storm passes without paying invincible until we're not dandelion lust sunset on water variations of with my heart the feral cat disappears anxiety the days i am your cave sea salt, toothpaste and everything else plastic microbeads
even now i procrastinate death poem as limp as the moss hanging summer doldrums Sandi Pray
morning walk a snail uncoils from a snail morning fog my lover's footprints still visible childhood diary dropping my first kiss into a cherry blossom night shadows my long lost son in dreadlocks Celestine Nudanu
funeral procession - the way father walks with his sarcoma chainsaw sound - the artist's new model the maidenhair tree midsummer heat - on the telephone pole birds play chess genealogy tree - I imagine us all together Goran Gatalica
synthblooms malfunctioning perfectly the shadow of papa and son jumping on it newsstack reading too much into it
C.R. Harper
sea shells arranged in colored shapes her vacation at the old piano their favorite song no longer in tune whipping wind clothes on the line more rumors river of heaven twirling the sherbet in her dish Bernard Gieske
towed boat the fisherman docks illegally elephant man... i decide to study medicine heavy rain a homeless man shares his umbrella Enrique Garrovillo
morning rain the old windmill almost silent evening rain- One by one the street lamps moving up hill longest day we take on some extra tea full of sunshine Robert Kingston
blind date... I lost my fake teeth inside a beer mug. granny's Palmnut soup_ I got my first kiss from Perriwinkles. baby's cry... a mother's breast tingles to its tune. NANA AMMA ADOMAA ABREFA
cherry blossoms decorate my sweater i am late for school barking dogs time to divorce the neighbors dead bug in my coffee summer will not end N. E. Taylor
desk fan buying ten-peso worth of breeze indoor camping the scout master reads a ghost story french toast handing her the jelly with a kiss her sigh... it's all that just a sigh
w.r. bongcaron
morning rain -- swept down the storm sewer spent shell casings John J. Dunphy
the remnants of a stranger's wish... bare dandelion if only our love were enough... heart-shaped headstone lunar eclipse the way she smiles in her sleep
doppelganger I purchased my face in a drugstore. I don’t remember much, but I know it was late, maybe 2 or 3 in the morning. My only intention walking in was to buy some whiskey, the cheap kind in the plastic bottle that tastes like stale piss but gets you wasted. My old eyes were drawn to it instantly, magnetized to it’s smooth plastic skin that seemed to glow beneath the flickering fluorescent lights. Strands of synthetic black hair were stitched into the top of its latex forehead, and fell across its empty eyes like cool streaks of midnight. It wasn’t scary or monstrous like the others. It looked human. Even more so than the face I was born with. It looked like someone had forgotten their own face on the shelf while shopping, and never came back for it. I set the whiskey down beside the bags of expired Halloween candy then breathed onto its lips, and in that breath it seemed to know all of my darkest secrets. hangover – the mirror stares at who I’ve become
Chase Gagnon http://seet25.wixsite.com/scryptic
farmers market busker singing the blues amid peaches and plums isolation ward infectious smiles welcome locksmith singing slightly off key after the mammogram chicken breasts for dinner soup kitchens serving square meals in round bowls sudoku evenings always finish at nine
outside the greeting card company a welcome mat taking the elevator to fitness training
Ruth Arnison
Anita Virgil
After the Fireworks I walk through the aftermath of Canada Day — the park's grass covered in garbage. I find a bench without too much trash in front of it and open my book. Sea gulls are enjoying their Sunday smorgasbord. A lone bicyclist passes, searching for bottles. heat wave — a beer can hanging from a tree
___ women's march — her son wants a pink hat too February — I forget my resolutions Marshall Bood
tree hugging a cicada clings to the bark pink flamingos within the rough draft clichés summer road trip the taste of Cajun gumbo anticlimactic poetry read the varicose veins of a vegan her first date the barometric pressure rising April ecstasy a slug roils gloriously in its slime Anna Cates
John Deere the plow floating on a mirage she glides from painting to painting the docent on skates modern day pioneer woman— frozen water pipes Lynn Edge
opening night– the conductor's shadow embraces the stage West Indies– the day comes in waves reading outdoors– the legs of a fly groping Issa rosary– a gull's cry rises through the chanting end of spring– she finally colors outside the lines chasing down the topless girls– tide swell
with the tree a part of me falls too cutting me off the faded Jesus bumper sticker rough waves– recalling an old prayer as we push through subzero– putting extra salt on the cocktail glass Bryan Rickert
a level access via the entrance to monday behind mirrors we appear in each other whirlwindperformedbyascythe s * t * a * r * r * y ** n * i * g * h * t *** **** ******** ***** ***** *** **** *** ******* ****** ***** * * * * * * * * ******* * * *** * * a dead geranium stands * * * * near the shadows Jacob Kobna Ayiah Mensah
speaking to the flowers ..... ....one by one - solitude Antonio Mangiameli
Sonam Chhoki and Sangye Khandu
Capotă Daniela Lăcrămioara
in the sky planes' lights like falling stars
Tsanka Shiskova
stones break my slow knife into a next-door dog bark edwin lomere
A nuthatch waits for the feeder to make more seed
Alexis Rotella
finding a home on her naked skin - the kingfisher lost paradise we share another apple summer thunderstorm - I put the champagne back in the fridge Sunday duty - daisies open daisies close pole dance the blaze of a rambling rose Eva Limbach Mare Tranquillitatis
dried hydrangeas – we dust off the season’s gossip the cat’s gift of a field cricket – Mothers’ Day first cup of tea the foggy window begins to clear masquerade a glimpse of her inner catfish mindful walking a superb fairy wren in my face Sunday sleep-in the purr approaches Lorin Ford
this narrowing path a guilt I can only imagine (for mum)
another birthday I buy fresh flowers for the grave evening chill an old dog emerges from the shadows domestic bliss the coffee machine grinds our argument Rachel Sutcliffe
Valentina Renaldi-Adams & A. D. Adams
red lips the shape of her yes their brief affair the honey bee pulls out of a blossom dust to dust a new housecleaner replacing the old waiting to enter traffic her long face
Rick Hurst
102 degrees i join the dog on the floor one-eye-on-the-camera kisses free wi-fi for the company we keep elsewhere Stephen Amor
Back Home thanks for seeing me safely home June moon *** back in my place the international adaptor hops... restless *** awake in my bed the strange, familiar noise of trains passing *** dusting deckchairs the start of an Irish summer *** back on the refilled bird-feeder greenfinch ***
the watch that’s travelled and the one that hasn’t telling the same time *** another suitcase the sneakers left behind too tight *** rehung mirror catching evening light -- midsummer *** four months on... opening a mystery gift to myself Maeve O’Sullivan June 2017 @writefromwithin
lawnmowers the sounds of men cutting into my sleep trying to get it all into my mouth – shish kabob finding his dentures in the commode- potty mouth finding out he doesn’t have AIDS – spring fling Susan Burch
having made it to the top lifting mist pine needles my daily dose reading adding logs to the fire on my side of the bed insomnia troops lining up beer bottles in the end left with one joystick between wigs my mother's smiley face Elmedin Kadric
my addition to all season saijiki arms race peeling onions my son questions the timing Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
Gravity pulls me towards the periphery I drift on the edge Emma Power epower05
Pris Campbell
sashiko stitch class realising all memory hangs by a thread among the bills one haiku chapbook lifting fog misspelled surname on the minister’s door snap election biting back a wisecrack party Zen Marietta McGregor
TV off today I don’t want to be uninformed Oscar Luparia
Tatjana Debeljaciu
shoulder sleeper – breath brushes the hairs on my arm spring-loaded legs – coffee jitters without the beans funeral faces – there’s always one nobody knows Ian Mullins
divorce talk she wears a suicide vest of emotions fake news ad the lingering smell of my holey socks ice-cream clouds the things you can look at but can't eat __
White House Leaks! Any resemblance to current events or actual locales, or to living persons, is not coincidental. in the bush faking it
Chen-ou Liu http://chenouliu.blogspot.ca/ @storyhaikutanka, @ericcoliu
Women's Rights- night bus: she fingers the ice pick the courthouse surrounded by roses nolo contendre Dan Smith
skipping stones across the red sea ovarian cysts bipolar low a rainbow fading into gray skies ___
-Safe Space- He grounded me for everything. Whispering at the table. Crying. Wetting the bed. It wasn't your typical grounding where you can't play with friends or you get the PlayStation cables taken away. I had to live in my room and the only reason I was allowed out was to shower, but he insisted on monitoring me. Said it was to make sure I wasn't "playing around". Dinner was served in my room. Sometimes only cheese and crackers, and if I was lucky, a few slices of pepperoni. My room became my safe space. It was the only home I knew and even now, sixteen years later, I still find it hard to leave. voyeurism even the moon has eyes
Lori A Minor seet25.wixsite.com/scryptic
Failed Haiku for poems much shopped around the final resting place little things - he picks lint out of her navel in summer pining for summer Prufrock to learn of the pine go to the pine Christmas tree lot it takes all kinds - wildflowers in the cemetery 150th birthday! Canadians celebrate not being Americans Garry Eaton
radio silence the kitchen suddenly empty spare key the light in the hallway broken
Christina Martin
Sonam Chhoki and Pem C. Gyamtsho
July 5th sweeping up July 4th how spicy is medium dirty talk grief counseling wondering what to do with my hands after the plague you can't be too careful 9mm macheesemo Thomas Tilton
time to leave home... a snail on the threshold undecided Natalia Kuznetsova
wearing a crown of pretzels flight attendant's first day born into money looking even richer in the casket home, I unpack motel soaps I'll never use fall mail . . . rejection letter for a poem I never sent existential exam the weight of tomorrow on my back Keith Polette
bank robbery ... no one could remember the naked woman's face during the holidays... grave digging will be done by a skeleton crew auto repair ... try us once you'll never go anywhere again dog for sale eats anything ... fond of children grandma started walking five miles a day ... no idea where she is Sanka ... coffee of choice on the Titanic
chemistry class ... most important rule never lick the spoon
Carol Raisfeld
lousy internet - Sherlock freezes on ‘erectile disfunct…' new software I sneak a sunbathe during the reboot snow melt I stop pulling out the greys left out - I suddenly notice the odd pane unshaved legs - immediately I know we'll click Naomi Madelin @nimnom
Sonom Chhoki and M. Kowalewski
falling leaves you never quite hit the high notes which way to go? I split my split ends the silverfish finds sustenance in my self-help book peak hour the numberplate ahead says ‘AHH 000’ Louise Hopewell
after all that died the string of hearts you left me a firefly glows brighter than the rest I forget my jar wake me if I die a neighbor shouts from his hammock Bruce Jewett
In every wrinkle a suspended reminder Life at sunset In ogni ruga un ricordo sospeso Vita al tramonto In the old village The cries of merchants on red roofs Nel vecchio borgo Le grida dei mercanti sui tetti rossi
Angela Giordano
harp dreams - warmongers and haters beamed to another world substitute teacher - a wasp takes its place amongst the students morning fatigue - the transferred energy of kittens at play Francis W. Alexander
deaf piano tuner -- C sharp always a bit flat all those things I used to believe in “Big Rock Candy Mountain” late breaking news – another demonstration against something six ducklings -- the toddler counts to two three times new school uniform -- equally unflattering to everyone 4th of May -- a practice batch of margaritas Angela Terry
wind chimes outside the loo tinkling she holds her cards close to her chest – strip poker downtown street corner – passing the local joint around tongue lashing the dog sticks its head out the car window funeral service – she bows her head in respect to her cell phone Dana Grover www.facebook.com/haikuish
hot sun we search the sky for relief spring's swirling wind lifting my spirits and my skirt new home fitting in her memories hot tub rental place thinking of all that came before Vera Constantineau
egosystem mist unwraps itself from the top of the mountain acceptance notice dead quiet cemetery sorry for everything I said before my morning coffee Olivier Schopfer
May rain is the best – says the old man little cowboy instead of a revolver a banana a salesman gives me a chilli pepper with a smile paper plane in my hand – failed haiku
Zoran Doderovic
traffic jam— we’re all pointed towards the moon night club changing colours by the minute the chameleon on her back backyard piss— in her pee puddle the evening star
Salil Chaturvedi
outside the cathedral nuns kicking autumn leaves chapel ceiling the soles of jesus' feet somewhere in the cathedral a pokemon hiding under a pew in the cathedral a toy dinosaur winter dawn on the cathedral lawn virgin snow
Stephen Toft
windshield smear radio static no place like home Renee Butner
fern leaves the complexity of everything early spring I notice my therapist’s cassette fetish three quarters in a clear zip-lock bag Book of Change hometown visit recognizing strangers in the streets my friend’s Freudian frown I spoke too positively of Jung Timothy Murphy
ad for my medication we do not share the same enthusiasm daughter's first birthday the loneliness of my womb regrettable incident my foot falls into my mouth home improvement he changes the channel support group I never know where to put my hands Tia Haynes https://adaliahaiku.wordpress.com/
My father thought girls needed no education: my mother's breakdown. Verisimili tude. These Japanese forms are too short for my Millipedes are small so I can’t count their legs to confirm their name. David Flynn
winter pouring into me nothing like an hourglass winter only my late mother called me Johnny once again realizing I'm not cut out for origami my regrets an obstacle course between bird songs John Levy
dandelion fluff she takes a deep breath fly in the elevator my wild wave at strangers orange, black, white stripes and dots - perfection for a monarch Pat Davis
Madhuri Pillai
Alzheimer’s – the same question every time Munia Khan
voyeur moon . . . the filthy things I've done you still come around total eclipse the luna moth was never going to get there anyway
her mirror image refuses to look at her . . . she takes it personally naked me and my six pack of beer she tears the wings off butterflies . . . no fly zone blaming it on your missing index finger is pointless Michael H. Lester
winter dusk for opening cocoons the referee's whistle spring dawn paternity leave for the snowman Rebecca Cowgill
a rising breeze I air out my grievances summer heat ... I help her into her birthday suit parting ways ... my shadow and I for the night pink slip ... she confronts me after dark Dave Read davereadpoetry.blogspot.ca
nothing diverse about it colonial cemetery his feet her feet a new language what she has not attitude, she says altitude Robert Epstein
The Impulsion of Escape Every now and then, the draught from the river whines in the ochre fronds of bare weeping willows and whips them about. The footpath and the stone cairn with its growing heap of offerings are rimed with frost. They catch the first light in glints of steel. There are no other walkers at this hour or even a car on the road that runs along the bank. It seems the daily hurried and relentless ‘going, doing, getting’ are suspended in a peculiar quiet. This is in no way disagreeable. It feels as if I have always known this sensation linked to a vague presage of escape. Even in the winter coat and boots I feel light and free like the clouds making slow flight across the ink-blue sky. jet passing overhead a gull’s shadow A dog barks from the other side of the arboretum. Two black squirrels chatter about something or another, probably about their red cousin that passed minutes before. Near the canal, a Great Blue heron stands on one leg, waiting. I am the one who blinks first. The gingko tree I am looking for is directly in front of me. without a word following the speech bubbles of my own breath
Sonam Chhoki Mike Montreuil
blind date his hands running over her couch the top step of a war memorial her dress blows up public holiday I decide to remain private champagne one button left on her blouse roses on our bed these things we almost say suicide risk I keep on listening to his silence Bee Jay
food for thought the street vendor doesn’t want to trade slash and burn the peaceful forest is gone your chainsaw snore candy store choosing a sugar coating for the bad news warnings of gales the cowardice of your breakup text grief counselling another wave finds a shore to break against in a dark corner untouched by humane hands the rescue dog David J Kelly @motto_sakura
chakraasana * I slip on my sweat * wheel pose in yoga
love scene my daughter drops the remote Kala Ramesh Chapbook Naad Anunaad: an Anthology of Contemporary World Haiku
pussy you can say it in public now that it goes with hat wordless poem… how could you read this if that were true yellow calendar a red X on every date but one William Scott Galasso
in a gadda da vida two fig leaves go hitting the grass sport swear the star*s free kick moon*s a referee Adrian Bouter
winter advisory his side of the bed unused afraid of the dark I make a wish on the new moon bonfire awake till midnight we talk the campfire cold Barbara Tate
beachcomber a message missing from the bottle steady rain the comforting ritual of bedtime stories Cynthia Rowe www.cynthiarowe.com.au https://www.amazon.com/author/cynthiarowe http://twitter.com/cynthia_rowe http://www.snapshotpress.co.uk/ebooks.htm
blind date . . . he says I am perfect guilty pleasure— the sidelong glance of her parrot conversation at the family dinner— quicksand writer's block the paper gives me a blank stare fickle moon the light in your eyes not meant for me Martha Magenta https://marthamagenta.com/
fallen leaves gathering the pieces of another life lonely game of chess challenging myself again old inuit ... on the kayak bow his child's name old carillion ... dancing home alone like a ballerina Eufemia Griffo
spilt orange juice I start picking up a shattered dream my boss yells at me—now i’m in a new comfort zone monster fear getting squeezed between two doors S.Radhamani
sits down to play computer game age thirty-two gets up age fifty-seven at the motel, trying to remember this trip’s rental car David Oates Wordland Sunday 8pm Eastern on 91.7 FM and 94.5 FM near Athens, GA Streams on www.uga.org
deep mist – my sight in my ears searching for someone to talk to - autumn moon Marek Kozubek
In the amphitheater Oedipus Rex is performed me and mother Jack Galmitz
first snow full of holes spider's web at mother-in-law's house an old fridge grumbles at us homemade ravioli your and my fingerprints hospital for government officials old men keep step with one another Nikolay Grankin
Ed Bremson Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/edbremson Twitter: http://twitter.com/edbremson
staring out the window waiting for a sign on her smartphone solar eclipse a dump truck pulls up to the window Mark Gilbert
new start — I wallpaper over our quarrel eye contact with a spider — he wins more eyes Keitha Keye
Debbie Strange www.debbiemstrange.blogspot.ca @Debbie_Strange
falling stars wishing I had a pocket wide-brim hat the grasshopper spits tobacco Susan Beth Furst
cold lemonade- the smiling goodmorning of the neighbors limonata fredda- Il buongiorno sorridente dei vicini zazen - inside and out of the torpor zazen - dentro e fuori del torpore
Margherita Petriccione
ardent dragonfly devours your soft butterfly dripping amrita Peter A. Wolf website
dusty piano paw prints makes rhythmic circles book fair dad engrossed in e-book Sudebi Singha
waltzing up to my biscuits — a large crow Diarmuid Fitzgerald
incense in each corner-- home alone grandma's wake all my crying before on every street in the Ukrainian ghetto national flags local election the wind lifts his toupee illegible grandmother's last haiku on post-it notes Nicholas Klacsanzky
snowstorm, I shovel the plow comes, I shovel the plow returns, I shovel graveside jilted mistress gives witness: even the dog hated him Robert Henry Poulin
chest pain: the weight of memory too heavy for nitro Dan Smith
white night in Petersburg a kid asks his mum “Why is he black?”
Gordon Ayisi
icy night rain paper thrown on driveway not worth a fall Christa Pandey
biker tamed by the pram he pushes born early impatient like his dad Mike Gallagher
chemo dripping into her veins the doctor's free lunch Julie Warther
Tango Heat dance little ballerina… all the colors of light that spin bluegrass leaping from the fiddler’s fingers cabaret songs on the radio “those were the days my friend…” finding grandma’s clogs in the back of the closet – celtic nights as the intensity builds tango heat fanning the flames the flamenco dancer’s red dress Angela Terry and Julie Warther
The House of Half Attempts It’s been weeks now and you can’t tell if they’re still moving in, or just moving out. Fitting a four bedroom house into a two bedroom apartment takes some doing, and most of the fortress remains unpacked. There are days when sellers’ remorse gets the better of them, and then selective memory takes over. Better the bear you know than the bear you don’t know, they say. Harder still to put both feet down on one side of a decision, and stay there. one’s castle the rooms we fill to disappear in
Peter Jastermsky
restaurant - before tasting photos on facebook (al ristorante – prima di assaggiare /post su facebook) Lucia Cardillo
delete delete, delete senior moments too late to dream the alarm rings sound of distant thunder drum solo Terrie Jacks
my strayed kite the neighborhood mad man returns with his new tie haiku— how every little thing matters now caught on the wire a bat and its shadow
Adjei Agyei-Baah
farmers’ market one hot tomato after another filling the holes in our friendship baby aspirin dog days of summer all the facebook postings i’ve seen before walking a dog-eared book back to the library 1984 Sondra J. Byrnes
forest encounter a snake and I flee in opposite directions graveyard a family leaves short of a member Kwaku Feni Adow
CURLEW SUNSET her multi-coloured hair distracts the eye from her bones dereliction a wasteland sycamore spinners spin haggard on a bench scribbling he sips soup dreams of fame curlew sunset a small abandoned boat in the saltmarsh a single line on a stained page “her multi-coloured hair” Paul Beech
her return ... the collapse of the permafrost my testimony ... the judge cranes his neck old shepherd ... the flock drags along Mohammad Azim Khan
gin blossoms I think about you every time eye of the storm an old pain swells in my chest passing by this stranger without a word earthworm Gabriel Bates gabrieljbates.wordpress.com
moving to recompose the puzzle of our lives baptism the pastor errs the child’s name fidget spinner time flows quickly between my hands
Elisa Allo
shift change – handing off false hope ginger root in the family bible a lock of grandmother's hair bugs in amber - the long line to turn into Volkswagen service pickup lines - what worked on my ex and my ex-dog cooking together on opposite sides of the sink - things are strained between us Eric Lohman @ealcsw
unwanted touch this thinning air up the mountain stomach thunder the elevator bell finally rings Anthony Q. Rabang http://facebok.com/ShortPauses @thonyrabang
piano bar - sottofondo di jazz dentro la pioggia piano bar - background of jazz in the rain Angiola Inglese
trepidation - new voicemail from the doctor Joe Kleponis
Barbara Kaufmann
home from vacation --- forgotten pistachios have wings morning news--- Steve the robot a suicide by drowning Jill Lange
an ice cream flavor labeled bunny tracks no thank you end of the day my bank statement and sudoku in alignment my aged mother asks me who I am good question Dottie Piet
chilled moon endures the winter sun until midday
Nina Kovacic
Gergana Yaninska
Wimbledon after the match I take a nap home alone I share a peach with fruit flies Debbi Antebi
clothing optional my fear of water and women holding the hand of his little sister – the class bully my dead brother’s room all our unanswered letters in brown paper bags old photo the stranger I’ve become blocking my view of the horizon her string bikini summer sunset my granddaughter asks me if I’m old
Bill Kenney
grown thinner father naming every herb gaining momentum the runner the rain Helga Härle
TOKYO, or TAKING CELLPHONES OUT Shinto shrine fields where melons once grew sprout skyscrapers apartment tower spot way up high waves at spot on the ground no cars coming crossing guard signals them to stop ample hips shift under summer linen the heat lunchtime cafe sliding door sighs shut on summer heat late start getting to the Fuji tour I rush more
origami store master's lips move faster than his fingers Shinjuku street people taking cellphones out for a walk Robert P. Moyer
dark country road every other street light missing cloud faces my childhood dog follows me Robyn Brooks
browsing Goodreads... my book rated five stars by the publisher haiku— after writing a good one I lose my notepad tailgating a slow driver who turns out to be my boss Buddha’s Birthday cleaning the mirror one more time AARP mail— for the first time in ten years I keep it John J. Han
thankful too light breeze lessens the dread of horseflies Kristyn Blessing
Mike Rehling ‘Failed’ Editor
(all work copyrighted by the authors)
